The next second I was moving. I grabbed a towel from the hanger. Blaise took his arm out at the same time I stuffed the towel into his mouth, and then I was holding Harper against the wall. Blaise moved back, easing the door shut so it clicked softly. Then we both pushed Harper over.

He wasn’t fighting.

That registered on the third second.

His eyes never moved from Blaise, and he was trembling.

This guy? This was the dirty pervert whom Tabatha had forced herself to kiss for her dad? He looked like a terrified five-year-old. He was muscular, with blond hair that was combed back. He was wearing khaki shorts and an actual pink polo. Fucking pink. I didn’t think guys like this existed.

I looked down. Yep. Loafers. They looked like velvet, but I couldn’t be sure in the dark without feeling them. I was only working off the moonlight streaming through the window.

Blaise took one look at him, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, Harper. I thought you’d have more fight this time around.”

I took the towel out and Harper said, not even giving me the time of day, “Right. ’Cause that helped last time.”

Blaise shrugged. “Yeah. Well, this time you should be happy it was me here and not Zeke.” He bent, grabbing something from Harper’s pockets. He pulled his phone out and it was lighting up. Tabatha calling was on the screen.

He answered, “Pitts or Greenly?”

I cursed, grabbing the phone from him. “Hey.”

A moment of silence, and then Jordan was cursing. “You fucking kidding me? You took him with that piece of shit?”

Blaise smirked.

Harper’s eyes were wide again, his mouth falling down a bit.

Jordan wanted this guy. That meant Jordan was going to get this guy. I looked right at my brother, because he wasn’t the only one who could choose. “There’s a panel in the fence that’s loose. Bren saw us come in. She can show you.”

Blaise swore under his breath, turning away.

I added into the phone, “Go the opposite way of the back door. We’ll be at a big bathroom window.”

“I could yell, you know.”

Both Blaise and I turned to him.

He seemed to lose all the blood from his face again, and he staggered a step. The back of his head hit against the wall, knocking a picture down. Blaise shut his eyes, sighing. “Seriously?”

We had to move.

I took Harper by the arm, moving him to the bathroom.

Again, I expected a fight. Again, there was no fight. If I were this guy, I would’ve been throwing punches. I would’ve had the door torn down by now, maybe have the window shattered. I’d be damned sure to wake the entire house up.

I would not be walking out. That’s what I wouldn’t be doing.